


Golden

by SilveryBeing



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Death Threats, M/M, Monsters, animal hunting, character description in prose form, implications that Ford is a monstersexual, implied BillFord - Freeform, light touching of an unconscious party, primal energies make you lose control of your billion year old self
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-08-11 15:34:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7898218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilveryBeing/pseuds/SilveryBeing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bill needs to make sure Ford will cooperate and decides to test a new form. It's not what he expects. Consider this a character description sheet only in story form. (not human!Bill)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Golden

The mindscape’s empty void stretched around Bill, an eternity in every direction, empty and vibrating with taunt possibilities ready to snap into realities. But Bill wasn't concerned about playing at creation and destruction in his own little playground. He was in his own thoughts, mulling over his options to a slight problem. 

 

Ford was turning out to be the perfect pawn, one he didn’t want to lose. While other organics in Bill’s past had retreated away, finding his praise and attention suspicious, Ford lapped it up like a man thirsting in the desert. Either Bill had gotten better or Ford was too naive to question his “muse”. He preferred the former interpretation.

 

But right now Bill was at an impasse. He had reached a certain level of Ford’s devotion, that of close friendship. But friendship only got an immortal interdimensional being so far with his plans. Ford’s ties were not strong enough, not yet. Ford could still shut Bill out over a single sliver of doubt; shut the project down, dust his hands off, and tell himself to be more careful while he went on with his life, leaving Bill seething and waiting who knows how many more thousands of years for a new pawn.

 

And that was unacceptable. He needed Ford to latch onto him in a different way. Something strong and sturdy that could withstand a few doubtful words from that moronic assistant. And Bill had an idea as to how.

 

This wasn’t his first encounter with organic lifeforms and Bill was certain he had figured out how they ticked. Flesh sought flesh. Consumption of one kind or another was always ticking in the suppressed primal areas of the organic brain.

 

Ford had liked to think he was above that sort of thing, more enlightened. But Bill knew. Those rippling thoughts of affection during their research, the lingering glances while working in the mindscape, that one particular idea that bubbled up the last time Ford was possessed. Bill knew what Ford tried to hide and just pretended it was better hidden than it was. 

 

The attention, the affection, and the isolation had already done half of Bill’s job already. There was just one lingering thought that caused it to all crash down.

 

_ “But he’s a triangle.” _

 

To the Pits of Garbonosh with organics their dumb hangups over appearance and ‘what the children would look like’ and ‘the genetic health of the species’. But a hangup was a hangup. If he came on too hard like this right now there was a still a slim chance that he would just alienate Ford and the portal might as well go up on smoke.

 

So Bill was going to have to adapt to get Ford to play with him. 

 

Bill willed the mindscape to shift towards Ford’s real estate as he continued to think. Ford was fast asleep in the real world and it echoed in the mindscape, sprawled over his desk where he had been working on that stupid journal. Bill didn’t wake Ford into the mindscape as was his norm, he needed him to stay asleep for this.

 

Bill circled Ford’s head, eye narrowed as he studied his pawn. There had to be something Ford liked in other humans, something he found attractive. Bill now wished he had paid a little bit more attention to the wisps of memories from Ford’s college years, even if the time spent not studying was constantly flipping through that dumb Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons manual.

 

But there was more than one way to chain a teragriff, Bill would just have to dig a little deeper. “Let’s see what fantasies you have in that limited dimensional brain of yours,” Bill whispered as he waved a hand over Ford’s sleeping form. Golden motes floated in the air, little sparks of ideas buried deep in Ford that now swirled around Bill. 

 

It wouldn’t do to just copy one of Ford’s fantasy’s wholesale, that was risking being be too much of a coincidence for even Ford to ignore. No, Bill needed the base ideas, the concepts that Ford’s daydreams were built upon. And from there he could shape himself into something desired.

 

The motes circled around Bill, spinning faster and faster until all he could see was a golden glow. He wondered what he would look like. Some blonde pinup girl based on a few college posters? That would a fun to toy with. Or maybe a jock from the various football teams that snuck into Ford’s distracted mind. That sounded just right to get Ford flustered.

 

The glow faded but with it came a sense of a body, of weight and muscles and tendons unknown in Bill’s true form. But these were sensations Bill was familiar with having possessed Ford and countless other beings of flesh. But before the last mote of gold vanished, Bill realized something wasn’t quite right. He felt too big to be human and the strange energy coming alive within him was much stronger than it ever was in Ford. 

Bill looked down, but instead of a pair of smooth human hands, he looked at the palms of what could only be described as paws morphed into the shape of hands. They were huge, with calloused pads on the palms and on the six long thick fingers. The fingers ended in claws about the same size and shape as the steak knives in Ford’s kitchen. He quizzically turned the paw-hands over to see they were covered in an almost glowing golden fur.

 

Bill had lived for billions of eons and prided himself on being well traveled in the multiverse and so not prone to surprises. But this was not what he was expecting. “What the-” Bill paused at the sound of his voice. It was deep and full of gravel and growls, not at all like his usual melodious pipes. “Oh, so Sixer doesn't like my voice eh? I'll have to punish him for that that.”

 

But that would be for later, after Bill figured out what he had inadvertently turned into. He willed the mindscape to move him a couple feet away from Ford, to give himself some room to work without waking his pawn.

 

“Let's see what we got here…” Bill waved one of his newly furred hands and right before him the perfect illusion of his new self rippled into existence. The illusion could not be called human by any stretch. An upright bipedal frame was the only resemblance to humanoids. The rest of it was nothing less than a monster.   

 

Bill narrowed his eye and moved closer to study his image, the illusion shimmering under his touch as he examined his new form.

 

The image was about 10 feet tall by Bill’s quick estimation, many feet taller than Ford was. The body was covered in glossy golden fur, longer at its extremities while short enough on its torso and upper arms to detail the strong muscles underneath. The two legs were digitigrade, ending in white cloven hooves larger than any of Ford’s dinner plates. The feathering around the hooves was particularly long and thick, giving the legs the image of even more power.

 

Bill stood up straighter, scrapping his own hooves on the ground, to look at himself in the face. The head was lupine shaped, with a long muzzle full of fangs. Bill took the moment the count them out. 42. There were 42 fangs and crushing molars. Pearly white and glistening. 

 

“So Fordsie likes teeth huh, well well well, isn’t that interesting,” Bill grinned to himself as he slammed the illusion’s maw closed, the image momentarily rippling with the force.

 

Bill roughly grabbed the illusions muzzle to look it better in the eyes. Or eye in this case. “I can never catch a binocular break can I.” But even so, Bill couldn’t find much argument with this set up. The right eye was whole and golden. The left socket though...instead of an eye, a great smooth white horn looked like it had burst from it, curving upwards like a candle flame. Surrounding both sockets were tiny upswept spines, white against gold fur.

 

Bill yanked at the eye socket horn and then lightly touched his own in curiosity. “I have to give you credit for creativity there Fordsie, though you are human so it’s not much of an accomplishment.”

 

Bill continued to pull on the illusion’s eye horn, forcing it to bow before him so he could examine the head more easily. The ears were pointed and upright, but not very long. On top of the skull was another set of horns. A smooth white backswept pair. In between the horns grew white spines that went down his neck, longer versions of the ones around the eye sockets.

 

Bill finally let go of the illusion, and it obediently straightened itself up, rippling as it recovered from the rough handling. He paced around to see its back, his muscles filling him with the alien sensation of strength as he moved. The white spines from his head continued down his back, smooth and sharp. But it was the pair of folded up leather wings on the illusion’s back that got his attention. Bill frowned at that. What use did he have for wings? The mindscape was subject to the visitor’s own sense of gravity and orientation. It took little practice for even Ford to figure out how to maneuver himself.

 

“Thanks for the useless appendages,” Bill muttered as he pulled open the illusion’s wings in order to see their transparent membranes better, his own shifting on his back. Oh well, if it was better for Bill’s appearance then so be it. None of this was real anyways, why start splitting heads now?

 

Bill let go of the wings and focused on the last part of his new body. Bill had idly noticed that certain areas of the body, such as the upper inner arms and thighs, had small areas where the fur had given way to golden brick shaped scales. Hardly note worthy in and of themselves, at least until Bill got to the tail. It was long and serpentine, dragging on the ground and and covered in those same golden brick scales which gave the thing some texture to it. Interesting...

 

Bill circled back to the front of his illusion, giving it one last look over. “Well Fordsie, in my superior artistic opinion,” he waved a hand, the illusion splitting like sand in the wind, “you are prone to overdesign.”

 

He could work with it though. Obviously three angled geometry was the ideal but the multiverse regularly held stranger creatures. And what kind of ultimate being would Bill be if he couldn’t tolerate mismatched forms for a little bit? Not one at all, that’s what!

 

That still left a puzzling questions in Bill’s mind. 

 

Bill stalked up behind the still sleeping Ford. The human was out like a light, all the late night work and overnight mindscape trips over the past few months had taken a toll. Bill would have had to  _ try _ to get Ford to wake up in the altered space. What a convenient night to do this when Bill wanted to make sure he was undisturbed.

 

“Why this?” Bill asked as he looked down upon Ford. “What is it about this that infects your dreams?” He placed his hands on the table on either side of Ford so he could lean over the human’s sleeping form. Seeing his own golden hands next to Ford’s made Bill pause. Ford’s hand would barely cover the palms of Bill’s. The view struck him, seeing the difference in size between them. As an in interdimensional being of pure energy, Bill never put much importance in size and he had never been concerned with being the small one in the exchange. 

 

But this…oh by the dead and ashen circles…

 

This felt good.

 

This felt  _ powerful _ .

 

“Is that what you like?” He leaned down closer so he maw was next to Ford’s ear. “Hm? Do you like  _ power _ ?” The last word he dragged out with a low guttural growl born deep in his throat, eliciting a slight reddening of the human’s cheeks.

 

“Oh you do don’t you,” Bill chuckled darkly to himself. “You like this cause its powerful compared to your puny human body,” he whispered, his fangs clipping Ford’s ears. “And you like  _ me _ cause I got more than enough power to go around.” He dragged his claws slowly down Ford’s spine, relishing the slight gasp he caused.

 

Bill cradled his other hand against Ford’s throat, easing his head up so he could look at him better. His hand could easily wrap around the human’s neck with room to spare. “I could crush the life out of you, mindscape or no. Would you love me for that? Hm?” He leaned in closer and lightly ran his tongue over the side of the human’s neck, his teeth barely grazing the skin. “I could fit your whole head between my fangs, your precious brain held safe only by my whims. Does that excite you?” 

 

Ford only squirmed slightly in his sleep as a response.

 

“You are one fucked up human. You know that right?” Bill chuckled, the flat of his teeth pressing against Ford’s skin, feeling the pulse of blood in his veins. Dead circles Bill was tempted… “Of course you do, and you love it because it brought you to  _ me _ .” Bill growled deeply again.

 

This form was doing something to Bill. It made him feel different, like the alcohol in the cabinet made Ford feel different. Power had never come to him this way before. He was used to power as streams of confidence, an ability that came with a snap of a finger, and an assurance that his whims would be obeyed. But this power was something embedded deep within, building inside until it threatened to explode, releasing a restlessness born from muscles just begging to be used to their extreme. He felt it hard to focus as the alien primal urges flooded his mind. And he loved it. It made Bill feel strong and that strength made him feel free. 

 

And all he ever wanted was freedom.

 

And the mindscape, ever aware of its master’s urges, responded in kind.

 

Bill looked up, suddenly alert as the shadows lengthened and a strange chill settled over his back. Ford was still asleep, slumped over his desk. But they were no longer in his cabin. Instead of scribbled on chalkboards and half completed machines, they were surrounded by a thick dark forest. Nothing nearly an inviting as the groves in Gravity Falls, this spoke of something ancient and hidden.

 

There was a brief moment of clarity in Bill’s mind, a second where he thought he should revert out of this form. But a movement past the branches caught his eye and the thought was gone from his mind as easily as a summer breeze.

 

It was a doe. Young, healthy, her two eyes glistened as she stared at Bill’s monstrous form. The mindscape seemed to hold its breath for as long as she held his gaze. Then with a shudder she turned and sprang away.

 

The muscles in his body screamed for their purpose and Bill did not even consider denying them. His hooves tore at the soft earth as the chase began.

 

There was no finesse or calm within Bill now, his mind held within it a singular purpose and that was the prey reflected in his eye. He crashed through the underbrush on all fours, branches snapping unnoticed against his eyehorn.

 

The doe was fast and agile, springing over obstacle and always a few stride ahead of Bill’s desperate claws. She led him deeper and deeper into the darkened mindscape, twisting and turning sharply, trying to shake off the monster.

 

But Bill was filled with a hunger he had never experienced, and his roars of frustrations shook the trees as his tail counterbalanced a hard turn, his instincts urging himself to be even faster.

 

_ Flesh sought flesh. _

 

He couldn’t stop. He would never stop. Not until her bones were crushed between his teeth.

 

_ Consumption of one kind or another was always ticking in the suppressed primal areas of the organic brain. _

 

The doe turned down an incline and that was her last mistake.

 

Bill’s wings only needed to beat once to bring himself into a dive and he crashed bodily into her. His claws found purchase in her pelt even as they rolled and slammed into a tree. She tried to fight back, to escape, her hooves thrashing against him. But Bill was much too strong and his teeth sunk into her throat, blood exploding over his tongue. 

 

She finally stilled and the thrill of victory ran through Bill, escaping as a final roar into the darkness. Then he set upon the body, his teeth and claws tearing at flesh and the warm meat swallowed down his throat. Nothing had ever tasted so delicious. This was what he was meant for. This was  _ everything _ . 

 

“Hello? Is anyone there?”

 

The voice in the darkness rang through Bill like a bell and his mind cleared of the fog. He stared down at the mostly eaten body of the deer and the blood staining his fur as if he had never seen it before. What was he thinking? What was he  _ doing _ ?! 

 

“Bill is that you?”

 

Bill’s mind turned to panic, his brain cycling through alien curses. Of course. Of course his antics would have woken Ford into the mindscape! He couldn’t let him see this. Not now. He had plans on how he was doing to introduce Ford to this new form, and bristling and bloody over a fresh kill was not one of them.

 

So Bill did the only thing he could do.

  
  
He cut off Ford from the mindscape.

 

____________________________________________________________________

  
  


Stanford had been feeling out of sorts all day. Unusually well rested, but out of sorts. He wasn’t sure if he had made contact with his beloved muse the night before or not. He had not seen or heard Bill at all, but he was certain he was in the mindscape. Not that he had ever seen the mindscape appear as a forest of creepy trees, but it felt real enough to not be a normal dream.

 

It didn’t last very long and he had woken up that morning very abruptly and slightly aroused. He tried to focus more on the former instead of thinking about the odd ghostly sensation of growls at his ears and teeth at his skin, no matter how nice it-

 

“I had the oddest dream last night Fiddleford,” he spoke up in an effort to distract himself.

 

His assistant didn’t look up from his microscope. “I have a feeling you are going to tell me about it.”

 

“It was of a really creepy forest. I couldn’t see anything but I had a feeling there was something out there.”

 

Fiddleford rubbed the bridge of his nose. “You  _ live _ in a really creepy forest. How is that odd?”

 

Stanford frowned. He was going to propose they head out into the forest, his muse might be trying to tell him something, but if his assistant was going to be so dismissive then he could forget about it.

 

“Well yes, I suppose,” Ford coughed and changed the subject. “How about we look over some of those formulas?” 

 

But the dream wasn’t gone from his mind. The next time he dreamed of his muse he would ask him about the forest and what it contained. 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope people other than myself enjoyed this. I wanted to do something to stand out from the idea of a human Bill so I looked leaned more towards monster and werewolf ideas. 
> 
> I hope it was touched on well enough in the story but the reason Bill acted the way he did was that this form came with a huge surge of primal energies which Bill has little experience with so it acted like alcohol in his system. Yes, this is how Bill gets drunk.
> 
> And yes, I would like to to more with this premise, including the potential for darker and nsfw things, but for right now I have other projects that need my attention.


End file.
